[_Reads_.] Ay, ay, so it shall be,--_Tell me, said he, my_ Bellemante; _Will you be kind to your_ Charmante? [_Reads those two lines, and is amaz’d_. Ha, Heav’ns! What’s this? I am amaz’d! --And yet I’ll venture once more. [_Writes and studies_. --_I blushed and veil’d my wishing Eyes_. [_Lays down the Book, and walks as before_. --_Wishing Eyes_! [Har. _writes as before_. [_She turns and takes the Tablet_. --_And answer’d only with my Sighs_. Ha! What is this? Witchcraft, or some Divinity of Love? Some Cupid sure invisible. Once more I’ll try the Charm. [_Writes_. --Cou’d I a better way my Love impart? [_Studies and walks_. --_Impart_-- [_He writes as before_. --_And without speaking, tell him all my Heart_. --’Tis here again, but where’s the Hand that writ it? [_Looks about_. --The little Deity that will be seen But only in his Miracles. It cannot be a Devil, For here’s no Sin nor Mischief in all this. _Enter_ Charmante. _She hides the Tablet, he steps to her, and snatches it from her and reads_. _Char_. reads. _Out of a great Curiosity, A Shepherd this implor’d of me. Tell me, said he, my_ Bellemante, _Will you be kind to your_ Charmante? _I blush’d, and veil’d my wishing Eyes, And answer’d only with my Sighs. Cou’d I a better way my Love impart? And without speaking, tell him all my Heart_. _Char_. Whose is this different Character? [_Looks angry_. _Bell_. ‘Tis yours for ought I know. _Char_. Away, my Name was put here for a blind. What Rhiming Fop have you been clubbing Wit withal? _Bell_. Ah! _mon Dieu!--Charmante_ jealous? _Char_. Have I not cause?--Who writ these Boremes? _Bell_. Some kind assisting Deity, for ought I know. _Char_. Some kind assisting Coxcomb, that I know. The Ink’s yet wet, the Spark is near I find.-- _Bell_. Ah, _Malheureuse_! How was I mistaken in this Man? _Char_. Mistaken! What, did you take me for an easy Fool to be impos’d upon?--One that wou’d be cuckolded by every feather’d Fool; that you’d call a _Beau un Gallant Homme_. ‘Sdeath! Who wou’d doat upon a fond She-Fop?--a vain conceited amorous Coquette. [_Goes out, she pulls him back_. _Enter_ Scaramouch _running_. _Sea_. Oh Madam! hide your Lover, or we are all undone. _Char_. I will not hide, till I know the thing that made the Verses. [_The Doctor calling as on the Stairs_. _Doct. Bellemante_, Niece,--_Bellemante_. _Scar_. She’s coming, Sir.--Where, where shall I hide him? --Oh, the Closet’s open! [_Thrusts him into the Closet by force_. _Enter_ Doctor.